


In The Name of The Mother

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Chris chooses Peter over his father, Domestic Fluff, F/M, M/M, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:10:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison asks questions that Chris just can't answer</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Name of The Mother

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by ediblemonsters
> 
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own

Raising a child was hard.

This was something that Chris had realised early on.

At the beginning, there were the early morning feedings and the screaming in the middle of the night, and the cleaning of the soiled nappies. Then there’s all the work involved with stopping them from putting this in their mouth or wandering off like that and touching this, and the night terrors and the first day of school that is one of the most stressful days to a parent and their child. School had given them a break but more worries - making sure they had friends, that they were getting along with the other students, that they were on the same track as the other students. And then, there were the teenage years.

Chris could have sworn he was never this bad. Sure, he’d had his...relationship with a werewolf, something unheard of in his family with deep connections in the hunting and executing of werewolves, but...

Actually, he was pretty sure he couldn’t argue himself out of that one.

Maybe Allison is a bit too much like him than he thought.

The argument had occurred out of nowhere. It really wasn’t Chris’ intention. It had started out just like every other conversation when she returned home from school. He would look up from the papers he had sprawled across the table, and smile before asking about her day. Allison would fill him in the same way that basically every teenager does with their parents - “it’s fine, nothing interesting happened to be honest” - and would return the favour and Chris would decide not to bore her with the semantics of the arms trade. After that, Allison would retire to her room, homework and sneaking in her boyfriend that she forgets her Pappy can pick up the scent for a mile away (although they blissfully feign ignorance). Jackson would come back a few hours later from lacrosse practise with Peter only a few minutes behind him. Jackson was splay across the sofa and watch crappy afternoon television before family dinner. It was a routine, a system, something Chris had grown comfortable with and had to admit that he treasured every second of it.

Which was why he noticed almost automatically that something was wrong.

Allison hovered, tense and nervous, wanting something. Chris glanced between her and the papers, silently asking but she didn’t speak, just avoided his gaze. Despite his curiosity, he waited. He thought maybe it would be relationship advice or that there was a problem at school, but this...wasn’t that.

The topic of Allison’s mother was something that never really came up. It wasn’t something any of them especially wanted to talk about. Victoria had seemed genuine enough in her apology. It had been forced out of her, she said. Gerard had threatened her, what else could she do? And Chris, like a fool, had believed her. He had told himself a hundred times that he was in a position where he could be easily duped. The need for children, for family, for his own flesh and blood, had been extraordinary and when Victoria had offered it to him, he didn’t know whether he’d ever been able to refuse. In some ways, he had trusted her, which is why it hurt so much, angered him so much, when she had disappeared into what seemed to be nothingness. If it weren’t for the Hales, Chris was sure that Allison would be another person, not sweet or innocent, just like Kate, with a mother who craved the connection that she was promised with the Argent name like nothing else.

When Allison had asked as a child, still naive to the world and the truth about hunters and the bloodline she came from, neither Chris nor Peter had wanted to sully her innocence with honesty, so they had lied. They told her she was a women who had wanted to help him and had died during the birth. Clean and simple. It was something that the five year old had taken as fact, without question.

They probably should have thought about the day when she would be old enough to ask again, to know more about where she came from. It was only to be expected, after all. But they hadn’t. In fact, they’d almost happily forgotten the actuality of it all - until her questions brought it all back and Chris...he wasn’t ready to answer those questions. Not yet.

Allison hadn’t liked it. He’d tried to placate her but it only succeed in making her angry, her words coming out harsher and rougher, until tears of frustration welled in her eyes and she resorted to begging that Chris just couldn’t give into.

So she’d stormed out, her footsteps heavy on the wooden floor and the door slamming resoundly behind her, descending the house into a cold silence that made Chris sigh in defeat, his shoulders slumping. He glanced back to the papers that still needed to be signed, still needed to be checked, still needed to be redistributed, and decided that this could all wait until tomorrow.

Jackson came home, regarded his father’s expression, poured him a glass of whiskey and announced that he was going to go to Danny’s for a few hours.

When Peter returned, he noticed the quietness of the house. That was usually never the case. Since the day that they’d had a baby in their home, it had never been quiet. There was always noise, shuffling, movement, even just the warm scent of family, but today there was nothing, just the faint clinking of a glass. His eyebrows furrowed worriedly and he frowned. He followed the noise, his footsteps soundless, and paused in the doorway to the dining room.

Chris didn’t look at him, kept his eyes firmly on the table, on the hand wrapped around the glass. Peter took in the slightly dishevelled look to his blond hair, the way his collar was crooked, the opened bottle of whiskey on the table and kind of made his assumptions.

“What happened?” he asked lowly, carefully approaching the man.

Chris took a gulp of the strong drink, swallowing through the burn. “Allison, she asked about Victoria.”

Peter pressed a hand to his shoulder, fingers flexing. “Well, you and I both knew it would happen eventually. She’s a smart girl, there was only so long that story would hold.”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t tell her,” Chris stated sharply and finished the rest of the drink. The glass was placed just a little too roughly and he realised it in favour of running his hands through his hair in frustration. He closed his eyes briefly. “I just...I couldn’t. How could I? Victoria, she...she shouldn’t have a part in our daughter’s life. Not after what she did.”

“Now, that we can agree on,” Peter mused, “But Allison has the right to decide that for herself. She old enough to make her own decisions.”

Chris huffed. “Yeah, yeah, she should have the chance to find out for herself yadah yadah yadah,” he grumbled out.

Peter stifled a laugh and reached to wrap his arms around Chris’ shoulders, pulling him tight and close against his front. He pressed their cheeks together, rubbing his lips along cheekbones, before he spoke again, his voice as soothing and understanding as he could make it, “I know you don’t like the fact that she’s asking questions or dating or growing up all together, but it’s something we have to deal with. Yes, what Victoria did was wrong and we did what we could to protect her from the truth of where she comes from, but she’s turning 18 next month. We can’t keep stuff this important from her anymore. It’s not right and it’s not fair.”

“I know,” Chris sighed and reached up with one hand to hold onto Peter’s bared wrist, holding and fingers caressing the skin there, “I just...how do I explain everything to her? Where do you even start?”

“From the beginning,” Peter concluded, “She’s a big girl, she can deal with it. But I must admit, I love how protective you are of her, however missed place.” He pressed a kiss to his cheek, and hugged him just a little tighter.

Chris hummed a little and then groaned. “Tomorrow. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Hmm, don’t make it sound like such a chore,” Peter chuckled and then stepped away, already moving to tug his coat from his shoulders.

“Peter.”

He paused.

Chris looked at him with barely concealed worry. “What if she...what if she doesn’t understand? Or if she wants to meet Victoria?”

Peter didn’t like the thought of either situation to be honest, and if faced with it in reality, there was no knowing what he would do, but for now, the answer seemed easy.

“Allison is our daughter, she always will be. We just need to trust that we’ve raised her right and that once she knows why we did what we did, she’ll make good decisions.” Peter gave a half shrug.

“Do you think she will?”

“Of course,” Peter said confidently, “She’s our daughter after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> for fandom freakouts and more fics, follow me [here](http://imthekeptainnow.tumblr.com):)


End file.
